The ball was quickly moving between the Wonderbolts' defenders, waiting for an opening for a through ball. From Surprise to Wave Chill, then Silver Zoom, who passed it wide to Fleetfoot, and occasionally Misty Fly would drop deeper to offer additional support. The Shadowbolts' defense was organized, moved quickly, and cut passing lanes, forcing them to be patient, and patience was never the strong suit of the Wondercolts, who usually preferred a counter-attack or a fast play, often resulting from a ball won through high pressing.
But sometimes you have to adapt to the opponent's game to survive. Besides, it wasn't like they didn’t know how the game would go; they faced the Shadowbolts in the League final almost every year.
“Come on, let’s go!” shouted Rainbow Dash from the wing, “10 minutes left, pass it up!”
“What’s up, Dash, scared of penalties?” she heard the opposing full-back, who she knew all too well, reply.
“Shut up and focus on playing, Indigo,” she answered, “don’t worry about that, as soon as the ball comes to me, we’ll score in ten seconds flat.”
“We will see, Dash,” she responded, moving up to put the attacker offside.
As if on cue, Soarin, the striker, dropped a few meters to play as a target forward, and Silver Zoom attempted a long pass. Soarin tried to use his back against the defender to protect the ball and then lay it off to Thunderlane, who was making a run. But the pass was too high, and the defender managed to outjump him and pass the ball to Number 5, who turned and attacked the space left by Thunderlane, starting a counter-attack.
"Damn!"
"Looks like you won’t be scoring today, Dash," Indigo mocked. "Too bad, you just needed one goal to win the top scorer race."
Rainbow Dash grumbled something and then went back to defending.
Meanwhile, the Shadowbolts quickly transitioned, exploiting the spaces left by their opponents. The Number 5 carried the ball forward, then passed it to the striker, who promptly played it to Indigo, who had overlapped in the meantime. The Number 7, playing on the same wing as Indigo Zap, cut inside, leaving space for the full-back to advance.
“Misty, get back and cover Number 7! Rainbow Dash, I need a double!” Fleetfoot called as she dropped back.
“On it!”
Knowing the double was coming, Indigo sped up, heading toward the end line. Once near the byline, Indigo cut inside, catching Fleetfoot off guard, and managed to make the cross.
The ball flew toward the near post, Wave Chill tried to reach it but he felt the opponent’s arm press against his shoulder, preventing him from jumping, so the opposing striker managed to reach the ball, heading it towards the goal.
The header wasn't very strong, but the forward had struck it close to the goal, Blaze still attempted to deflect the shot diving but it went past him toward the far post, where he couldn’t save it.
The ball bounced on the ground, and Silver Zoom stretched out trying to save it on the goal line, but it was too far, and he couldn't reach it.
Everyone held their breath, waiting for the ball to roll into the net, leaving the Wondercolts chasing for the last few minutes of the game.
The ball kept rolling slowly, the Shadowbolts ready to celebrate. Then, it hit the post, bouncing just a few steps from the goal.
Surprise was the first to react and go for the rebound, swiftly passing it to High Winds, who was a few meters outside their penalty area.
The Shadowbolts then tried to fall back, but they had pushed many players forward looking for the winning goal, leaving plenty of space.
High Winds cut inside, avoiding a tackle from the opposing Number 8, and passed it wide to Rainbow Dash, who had plenty of space. The quick counter-attack from the Wondercolts found them in a 3v3 situation with the opponents.
The Number 3 of the Shadowbolts quickly retreated, fearing Rainbow Dash's speed, who indeed reached her quickly.
‘Okay, small steps now,’ thought Rainbow Dash, slowing down. ‘A lot of touches and little steps.’
She made a body feint, moving her body right without touching the ball, then quickly moved left, trying to throw off her defender. The defender, however, continued backing up, not giving her any space.
‘Come on, commit! Give me a side to attack.’
By now, Rainbow Dash was near the penalty area, and the defenders were rushing back quickly. So she decided to go for it.
Rainbow Dash slightly accelerated, and with the outside of her left foot, she shifted the ball toward the center. The defender then took a couple of steps on her right, leaving the wing open, so Rainbow Dash, with a quick movement of her ankle, shifted the ball back to the outside, completing an elastico and earning a cheer from the fans. Then she stretched the ball with her right foot, getting past the defender.
As she neared the byline, she sent a low cross toward Soarin, who was fighting to get into position in the box against an opposing defender. Soarin then feinted moving behind the defender before cutting in front of him. The opponent tried to position his body to block him and grabbed his shirt to stop him, but the striker, sliding in, managed to hit the ball with the tip of his foot just ahead of his marker. The goalkeeper, who had failed to intervene on the cross, could only stand still and watch as the ball traveled toward his right.
The fans stood up, waiting for the ball to hit the net. Their hope quickly turned into disappointment when they saw that the cross wasn’t very precise and was still too long, so Soarin couldn’t direct his deflection directly to the goal.
Rainbow Dash groaned and placed her hands on her knees, exhausted after the long counterattack. Soarin, still on the ground, put his hands in his hair, desperate for wasting such a clear chance.
The players on the field resigned themselves to the penalty shootout, something the Wondercolts had often lost.
Yet the fans stayed on their feet and began to cheer as the ball came to the other side of the box. From the stands, they had seen something the players hadn't noticed.
Spitfire had followed the play from the other wing and had launched herself toward the goal, hoping to collect a potential rebound from the goalkeeper.
Seeing the ball come in fast, Spitfire had to stretch to stop it, and it ended up a meter behind the winger. Even though the stop wasn’t perfect, the Wonderbolts' captain still had plenty of space since the Number 3, thinking the ball would go out, didn't follow it all the way, so she was the first to reach the ball anyway and managed to fire the ball point blank into the net before the goalkeeper could react.
The fans started shouting in celebration, singing the captain's name, who in response ran under the stands and mimed shooting an arrow at the crowd, her usual celebration. She didn’t have time to finish her motion when she felt someone jump on her from behind. Seconds later, she was buried by her teammates who came running to hug her and celebrate the goal, even Blaze came to celebrate from the net.
“Ooof, get off of me! You weigh a ton!” Spitfire complained with a faint voice.
When everybody moved out of the way, Rainbow Dash approached the girl, "great goal, cap," she said, extending his hand to help her up. "Did you really have to wait that long to score?"
Spitfire rolled her eyes, "I don't think you did any better, Dash." She said, giving her a small punch on the shoulder.
“Touché.”
“Okay guys it’s not over yet, let’s hold these last two minutes and win this match!” shouted Spitfire, heading back toward her half of the field.
The Shadowbolts lined up all across midfield, leaving only two players behind, and as soon as the referee blew the whistle to resume play, they ran toward the Wonderbolts’ box, waiting for their teammate’s long pass.
The pass came immediately, looking for a flick-on or a fortunate second ball.
However, the ball arrived where there were no Shadowbolts players, and High Winds cleared the ball with no frills, sending it back to the opposing Number 8.
The Wonderbolts were all in their penalty area, trying to resist the last attacks. The only one still up front was Spitfire, who pressured the ball carrier to prevent him from making an easy pass.
Number 8 then passed the ball to Number 6, who played it down the wing to number 7. The Shadowbolts winger moved toward the ball. Just before gaining possession, she turned her head to scan the field and saw Fleetfoot coming at her, so she laid the ball off first-time to the striker who had come close to offer a passing option, and cut behind Fleetfoot, planning to close the triangle.
However the striker’s pass was predictable, so Rainbow Dash, sensing how the play would unfold, positioned her body between Number 7 and the ball, blocking the opponent from getting to it. The opposing winger didn’t give up, trying to go around Rainbow Dash to the left and right, but the Wondercolts player didn’t let her get past. So the winger tried to help herself with her hands, pushing down Rainbow Dash.
“Hey! Ref, it’s a foul!” shouted the player on the ground.
The referee blew his whistle, pointing to where the contact had occurred.
“Let’s go!” cheered Soarin, “come on, it’s over, let’s manage this last possession!”
The Shadowbolts players gathered around the referee. “Come on! That’s not a foul, I barely touched her, she dived!” shouted number 7, agitated.
“Number 7, don’t speak to me like that, next time I’ll book you, I warn you,” replied the referee as he walked to the spot.
“So? It’s the last match of the season, see how much I care!”
The referee blew his whistle again. “Here it is then.” He showed the yellow card to the Shadowbolts winger. “If you still don’t care, I can always give you another one.” Number 7, still livid, was dragged away by her teammates before she could say anything else.
“Blaze, you take the free kick!” called Spitfire.
Blaze, with all the calm in the world, walked to the spot, just to stop and adjust his shin guards and socks.
“Come on! Hurry up!” shouted Indigo, “Ref, he’s just wasting time!”
The goalkeeper then took his run-up and launched a long pass toward the edge of the opposing box. Soarin got to the ball first and nodded it down to Misty Fly. After controlling the ball, the Wonderbolts midfielder looked up and saw two opponents coming toward her, so she passed it wide to Surprise.
“Hey, here!” called Spitfire, who had space on the same wing.
Receiving the pass, Spitfire advanced toward the box, then changed direction and moved toward the corner of the field, followed by the opposing full-back.
Spitfire stopped the ball near the corner flag, bent her knees, and lowered her center of gravity, preparing for a physical confrontation.
When the full-back arrived, Spitfire was ready and protected the ball with her body. Seeing no progress being made, Number 3 went to double up on Spitfire, trying to steal the ball.
“Soarin, a little help here!?” she shouted.
But Soarin was too slow and feeling the pressure, the Wonderbolts captain shifted the ball and kicked it as hard as possible toward the opponent’s penalty area. The ball bounced off the opposing full-back's leg and went out for a throw-in.
“Soarin, move that ass and at least come to help with this throw in!” she scolded Soarin, picking up the ball.
“Coming,” Soarin jogged toward the wing, ready to receive the pass.
Spitfire got ready to take the side-throw,but was interrupted by the referee, who blew the whistle three times, signaling the end of the match.
Spitfire let the ball drop and jumped on the first teammate she found, in this case, Surprise. “It’s over! We won!”
The two players were quickly joined by the rest of the team, who picked up the captain and lifted her as if she were a cup, chanting. No matter how many times you win, a trophy remains a trophy, and it's always celebrated with great enthusiasm.
“Soarin wha- whoa!” Soarin then took Spitfire onto his shoulders and, along with the rest of the team, headed towards their fans “Put me down, moron!”
“Not planning on doing that, captain, now let’s go greet our fans!”
The crowd roared from the stands, and what a crowd it was. Normally, only about sixty people watch a match, but the charm of the finals always brings more people, and the fact that this year's final was played at the Wonderbolts' home might have contributed.
Thus, three hundred people, including friends- six in particular, players from other teams that had participated in the tournament, and people who just wanted to see a great match, were singing and clapping as Rainbow Dash and her teammates went under the stands.
"Hey Spitz, I'm the top scorer of the league, how about dinner on you?" Rainbow Dash joked. It was a bet they had made a few years ago; that season, she scored 34 goals. Since then, Spitfire hasn't made any more bets with Rainbow Dash.
Spitfire, who had by then gotten off Soarin's shoulders, raised an eyebrow. "Last time I checked, the Shadowbolts' striker also scored 21 goals."
"Well, yes, tied for first, still first."
"Yeah, but he played fewer games, so he is first," Spitfire replied, walking toward the center of the field, where a representative was holding the first-place trophy, a small cup made of unspecified material but definitely not expensive, with the winner's name and the current year engraved on the base.
"Come on, Cap, are we being picky now?"
"With you, always, Dash," Spitfire replied before turning to the team. "Let's go, guys, we have a trophy to lift!"
The celebration continued in the locker room with singing, chants, and laughter. The players passed the trophy around, taking turns lifting it and taking photos, until someone shouted “Captain’s speech!” Making everyone turn toward Spitfire, "yeah, come on! Speech! Speech! Speech!"
Spitfire, then, overwhelmed by the team's good mood, stood up on one of the benches, "Okay, okay, hehehe, I’ll give this damn speech, but now shut up!"
The locker room went silent in an instant, everyone ready to listen.
"Um, so. Guys, this year we’ve made it all the way to the end, and we did it our way. With passion, determination, and commitment. Running more than our opponents, jumping higher, getting to the balls first."
Spitfire began pacing on the bench, "But this year," she said, raising her finger towards her teammates, "this year we’ve proven that we know how to play with the ball too; that we can control the game and slow it down," she then pointed to her temple, "we adapted to the situation, we evolved," and then raised a fist to the sky, "and we won!"
"Yeah! Won-der-bolts! Won-der-bolts! Won-der-bolts!"
The celebrations were interrupted when the locker room door opened, "Captain, are you done with the speech?" asked Tight Ship, the coach, who had stayed outside to let the players celebrate among themselves.
"Yes, coach, do you want to say a few words too?"
"Right now I just want to say that I’m proud of you guys." He said, then turned to Rainbow Dash, "Dash? Could you come outside for a minute?"
"Me?" Rainbow Dash asked, pointing at herself, "Sure, I guess."
As she walked towards the locker room door, Rainbow Dash cast a puzzled look at her teammates, who stared back at her with the same confused expression.
"So," said the player, closing the door, "you need to tell me something?"
"I don’t, but I’d like to introduce you to someone who wants to talk to you," replied Tight Ship, nodding to his left.
Rainbow Dash then turned around and noticed a woman leaning against the locker room wall.
She had short black hair, with a fringe not too long. Despite the big age difference, she didn’t seem any taller than Rainbow Dash, in fact, the young one might give her a couple of centimeters. She could have looked like any random person there to watch the game, if it weren’t for her overly formal clothes for such an occasion; a light blue shirt with the top two buttons undone and a pair of grey jeans. The shoes clashed a bit with the rest, as they were just normal sneakers from a sports brand.
"Hello, Rainbow Dash," she began, her voice hoarse, probably due to the smoke given the smell she was giving off, "First, I wanted to congratulate you on the victory, it was a great game and an excellent performance."
"Uh, thanks," the girl replied, confused, "Do I know you?"
"I’d be surprised if you did," the woman chuckled, "but I know you. Or at least, I’ve seen you play several times," she continued, "as I already said, excellent performance, today just like the rest of the season. Tell me, have you ever thought about making soccer your job?"
"W-what? What do you mean?"
"Make the big leap, become a professional, ah, sign a contract, that is."
